It's Better This Way
by Sendricks-Corn
Summary: "You're staring," Beca mumbles as she shifts to get out of bed. She is leaving again, just like all the times before.


**I doughnut own Pitch Perfect or any of it's characters. If I did, you can bet your sweet ass Beca and Chloe would have ended up together.**

You wake up with brunette hair covering your face. The smell of sweat and shay butter shampoo reminds you of last nights activities. Part of you wants to wake her, but the other part of you wants to let her sleep. You know that when she wakes up she will leave and go back to him, just like she always does.

You brush some hair out of your face and admire the beauty that she is. Her perfect jaw line that you had relentlessly kissed up and down. Her luscious and plump lips that screamed your name. Her beautiful gray eyes that had basically undressed you when she walked into the room. Wait, gray eyes?

"You're staring," Beca mumbles as she shifts to get out of bed. She is leaving again, just like all of the times before.

"Sorry," you reply, sticking out your tongue to moisten your dry lips. It's almost as if you can still taste her on them.

"I want to tell you something Chloe. I know I should have told you last night, but promise me you wont be mad."

You can't promise that. It would be a lie. She always makes you mad. "I promise," you say, smiling. "I could never be mad at you."

She picks her purse up off the ground and digs around inside. Finally, she's found what she is looking for and pulls out an engagement ring. She gives you a shy smile and puts it on her ring finger. "Jesse proposed," she says.

You feel your heart drop and tears form in your eyes. To be honest, you knew this day was coming. Jesse honestly loves her, but so do you, and you can't help but picture what your life would be like if you two were together. It only makes you angrier and more upset.

"Say something, please," she says, biting her lip. She knows you are angry even after you promised you wouldn't be.

You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. Your lungs tighten in your chest and it feels like you are going to combust. "Am I supposed to be happy for you?" You ask, finally able to speak.

"I was hoping you would be yes," she admits, nervously looking at the ground. "I was going to ask you to be my maid of honor."

"No." It's only one word, but it lets her know that she has said too much.

"Okay," she says as she finishes getting dressed. Just as she is about to walk out the door, she turns and says, "you're still invited to my wedding. Whether you come or not is up to you. I do love you Chlo, but I belong with Jesse and you know it. We both know it. I'm sorry for leading you on all the time, but you don't know how hard it is to say no to you."

"Leave," you say. You don't want to hear any more words come out of her mouth.

So she leaves.

Not even five minutes later, you get a text message.

**RECIEVED: 11:41 FROM: BECABOO** (you really need to change her name now.)

**It's better this way.**

You reply, with a message that finally states how you feel.

**SENT: 11:43 TO: BECABOO** (if she knew that was her name in your phone, she would kill you.)

**Beca, we both know it's not better this way. You love me and I love you. Make up your damn mind, because I'm tired of just sleeping around with you. I want us to be in a fully committed relationship and don't you dare for a second think that you don't want it too. Sure, you like Jesse, but you love me. Turn the car around and come back to me. It's not better this way. Not at all.**

She reads your message, and replies. She finally states how she feels.

**RECIEVED: 11:43 FROM: BECABOO **(you guess her name can stay.)

**Okay.**

It was only a one word answer, but it filed your heart with joy. You knew she was coming back to you because it's where she belongs.

You have been waiting for five minutes. She still hasn't arrived.

You have been waiting for ten minutes. She still hasn't arrived.

You have been waiting for fifteen minutes. She still hasn't arrived.

At twenty minutes, you get a phone call. From Jesse.

You don't hesitate to pick up. "This is all your fault!" He screams. "She was texting you, you did this to her. You are the reason she died and I hope you can't live with the thought of that now. I want you dead." With that, he hung up.

To say you are confused is an understatement. It was hard to understand him, but you made out some words. Like texting and died.

You have been waiting for an hour. She still hasn't arrived.

It finally clicks, and you realize that she isn't going to. She is dead, and it's your fault. She was texting you when she crashed. You made her text you back. You are the reason she is gone.

Grabbing your keys, you drive to the nearest hospital. It's a good thing there is only one hospital in Baton Rouge.

"What room is Beca Mitchell in?" You ask the receptionist, out of breath. It had been a long sprint from your car to the hospital lobby.

"Let me check," she says, clicking the mouse of her computer a couple times. "I'm sorry, but she was moved to the morgue ten minutes ago. She is dead."

You grab the counter and lean your weight on to it before your knees give out. "H-how did it happen?" You ask, wanting to know the truth. It may have been your fault.

"Medical examiner says that she was texting and driving. The last text she sent was 'okay' and when she looked up from her phone, a semi plowed straight into her car. She swerved into the wrong lane and she died instantly. I'm sorry ma'am."

You grab the counter tighter, but it's no use. You fall to the groud with a thud. But it doesn't matter, you can't feel it. You can't feel anything. Suddenly, your lungs tighten and you cant breathe. Beca was everything to you. A friend, a soulmate, and most importantly, your oxygen. She was the only thing that ever kept you alive and now she is gone. And it is because of you.

You lay on the ground, crying out for help. But the receptionist couldn't hear you. She went back to taking phone calls. Inside, you are screaming and kicking. Begging for someone to help you breathe. But Beca is the only one who was ever able to save you. Suddenly, it all goes black.

You wake up with brunette hair covering your face. The smell of sweat and shay butter shampoo reminds you of last nights activities. Part of you wants to wake her, but the other part of you wants to let her sleep. You know that when she wakes up she will leave and go back to him, just like she always does.

You brush some hair out of your face and admire the beauty that she is. Her perfect jaw line, her luscious lips, and her gray eyes. You thought that you would never see them again.

"You're staring," Beca mumbles as she shifts to get out of bed. She is leaving again, just like all of the times before.

"I know," you say, with teary eyes. You want to jump and hug her but you know that isn't the best thing to do right now. Somewhere deep in your mind you realize the situation you're in.

"I want to tell you something Chloe. I know I should have told you last night, but promise me you wont be mad."

"I promise I won't be mad," you say, smiling.

She picks her purse up off the ground and digs around inside. Finally, she's found what she is looking for and pulls out an engagement ring. She gives you a shy smile and puts it on her ring finger. "Jesse proposed," she says.

You force down the food you ate last night and manage a simple reply. "That's wonderful."

She smiles big and jumps into your lap. "Will you be my maid of honor?"

"Of course Becs. But can we cuddle first?" You ask.

"Well duh," she replies, wrapping her body tightly around yours.

After ten minutes of cuddling, Beca's phone rings. "Oh my God," she says, fear evident on her face.

"What?" You ask, but you already know what it is.

"There was a huge crash up town." You could see the tears in her eyes. "If you would have made me leave, I would be in that wreck."

You pulled her back into your embrace and softly kiss her forehead. "But you weren't. And I am thankful for that."

"I guess this is how it's supposed to be, me marrying Jesse and you being my best friend?"

Your fingers make delicate traces through her hair. "Yeah, it's better this way."

FIN


End file.
